


The kind of night (where everything could change)

by chronocides



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronocides/pseuds/chronocides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff's all set up to have the most memorable night of his high school life. His friends have pulled out all the stops: limo, unlimited drinks, hotel room-- too bad Jeff doesn't have a date. Jeff's preparing himself for a solitary night of questionable television and room service. But then he meets Eric at the hotel bar.</p><p>(AU. Jeff is seventeen and in high school. It's a few months before the draft. Eric doesn't seem to have any idea who Jeff is, which is great, because Jeff's told him he's in college, studying math. Sexytimes ensue.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The kind of night (where everything could change)

**Author's Note:**

> God, I am so bad at summaries. All mistakes are mine. Title from Noah and the Whale's "Tonight's the Kind of Night".

The worst thing about Winter Formal is having to look for a date. So when Toby thwacks him on the back of his head at lunch one day and says, “Dude, Ellen wants to go as a group to Winter Formal, you in?” Jeff nods in relief.

He’s out only to a small, select group at school—Ellen, Erin, Toby, and Mark. Ellen and Toby got married on the playground when they were all in the fifth grade, and the three of them have a bet going on when Mark will get with the program and realize he’s in love with Erin.

“You aren’t doing this because of me, are you?” Jeff says to Ellen after school, when they’re hanging out on the school steps waiting for Toby to come with the car. Ellen squints at him through her glasses, long enough to make Jeff nervous.

“As if,” she replies finally. “Stop being so self-centered, Skinner. The world doesn’t revolve around you.” She grins when she says it though, and loops her arm through his. “I just wanted us to have this one memorable dance together, as a group, before we all scatter like leaves post-grad.” She leans against him. Her hair smells like lavender and it tickles his nose. He holds back a sneeze.

“That’s… nice,” he observes. “Kind of melodramatic though.”

She pulls back and hits him in the arm.

“Ow,” says Jeff. Ellen never pulls her punches, and she’s got one hell of an arm.

“Think about it though,” says Ellen. “I mean, next year, Toby and I are going to college in Toronto, Erin’s going on a kibbutz, who knows what Mark will decide to do, and you… well, you’ll probably be some hotshot NHL star,” Jeff makes a dissenting noise. Ellen laughs.

“They could think I’m raw or something, and send me to the minors,” Jeff says darkly. He’s gone over every possible scenario in his head. Every time the commentators make noises about him getting picked first round, he thinks they’re jinxing him. He’s a hockey player; he’s allowed his superstitions.

“Hotshot NHL star,” Ellen predicts, and pokes him in the side. He tickles her, and she squeals and pushes back, nearly sending them careening down the steps. Toby chooses that moment to pull up in his beat-up Toyota.

“Are you two done?” he calls through the open passenger’s side window.

“Say it,” Ellen says, digging her fingernails into Jeff’s bicep, which is totally playing dirty.

“You’re queen of the universe,” Jeff dead-pans, and Ellen gets to her feet, pushing her glasses up her nose. “And you get to ride shotgun.”

“Don’t you forget it,” she says, climbing through the passenger’s side window and sliding into the front seat.

Jeff shakes his head, smiling, and gets into the back.

///

The night of Winter Formal is cool and crisp. Not the dead of winter, so he doesn’t have to wear a down parka on top of his tux, an altered hand-me-down from Ben.

Jeff’s in the front hall, straightening his tie, when his mom shouts from the kitchen, “They’re not here yet?”

“Not yet, mom,” Jeff calls back. His mom comes into the hall and smiles at him.

“It’s really nice that all of you are going together as a group,” she says. “You’ve all known each other for so long. I mean, I remember when Erin and Ellen used to come over here and ask you to play.” She sounds a little choked-up, and Jeff sighs inwardly.

“Mom,” he says. She reaches out and brushes imaginary lint off his shoulder.

“And now all of you are high school seniors,” she says. Her voice is definitely a little shaky. Jeff knows exactly how to deal with this—he’s seen his older siblings do it a thousand times. He reaches out to hug his mom.

“Stay strong, Mom. You still have Jilly,” he says ominously. His mom laughs and swats at him just as the doorbell rings.

Jeff bounds to the door and opens it to his friends—for some reason, Mark and Toby are both wearing fedoras, and Erin is…

“Is that _fur_?” Jeff says, gesturing to Erin’s coat.

“Wait ‘til you see our ride,” she says. “Totally appropriate.”

Jeff opens his mouth, but his mom chimes in with, “Come inside, all of you. I want to get some pictures before you all go.” Jeff closes his mouth and his eyes widen comically. Ellen winks at him and Toby tips his hat as they all step into the house, where Jeff’s mom is brandishing a camera.

“Don’t all of you look nice,” she cooes, and Jeff closes the door with a sigh as she starts snapping away.

///

Finally, they manage to get away—Ellen’s the last one out of the house, she said she had to ask Jeff’s mom about getting copies, which is… understandable, given that Jeff’s mom never really got the hang of facebook.

“Dude,” Mark says, waving his hand to get Jeff’s attention. When Jeff looks at him, he hands him a fedora. Jeff wrinkles his nose.

“No,” Jeff says, and Mark pushes it at him.

“Get with the program,” Mark instructs, and jams the fedora on Jeff’s carefully mussed-up hair.

“What prog—,” Jeff stops.

He’d thought they were all going to the dance in Mark’s van or Toby’s Toyota, but apparently Toby’s dad had other ideas of what constituted a proper ride to the last dance of their high school lives.

“A fucking limo?” Jeff says. “Seriously?”

The girls giggle and climb into the back. Toby claps him on the shoulder. “This is just the appetizer,” he intones, before following the girls into the backseat.

“Pre-game?” Mark says, offering Jeff a glass.

“Champagne?” Jeff says, as Erin raises a bottle. “What the hell?”

“My dad’s really happy I got into a college,” Toby says, shrugging.

“What did you mean that this was just the appetizer?” Jeff asks, once he has a couple of glasses of champagne in him. The bubbles tickle as they go down his throat.

Toby grins, and Ellen answers for him. “We have at tab open at the bar at his dad’s new hotel downtown, and he's reserved rooms for us too.”

Jeff stares at Toby, who shrugs again. “Dude, I think it’s his midlife crisis or something. My mom says it’s better for him to live vicariously through me than to go drinking and who knows what in hotel rooms himself.”

“To Toby’s cool dad,” Mark declares, raising a glass. Erin nudges Jeff, her eyes bright, and he laughs and raises his glass.

///

The dance isn’t bad, as high school dances go. It’s just that Jeff has grown up with all his classmates, and with four months to go until graduation, he isn’t exactly nostalgic yet.

And it’s pretty tame tonight too. Jeff falls into conversation with a group of guys about hockey, and he dances with Ellen, and Erin, and eventually gets drawn into dancing with the whole group. He’s pleasantly buzzed from the champagne in the car, and he’d never admit it under torture, but he was totally singing along to Taylor Swift when the DJ played a whole slew of her songs, one after the other.

It’s almost midnight when Toby tells him they’re going, and Jeff gamely jams his fedora back onto his hair and gets into the limo. It makes record time to  
Toby’s dad’s hotel, and from there they all pile into a booth at the hotel bar and Toby goes over to talk to the bartender.

He comes back with a tray full of shots.

“Never have I ever,” Erin declares, clutching a shot in her hand. “Uh,” she says, thinking.

“Seen a member of the same sex naked,” Mark finishes for her. Jeff rolls his eyes and takes a shot. When he puts it down, everyone’s staring at him.

“Locker room,” he explains, even though he told Ellen and Erin about the two guys he messed around with last year. He drums his fingers on the tabletop and says, “Never have I ever streaked during assembly.”

Mark digs an elbow into his side, but he takes the shot anyway.

“That’s so gross,” Erin says primly.

“You’re gross,” Mark replies promptly. He’s smiling though, fondly, as Erin replies, “You’re grosser.”

“We’re out of shots,” Ellen says loudly.

“I’ll get them,” Jeff says, taking the tray. He can hear Erin and Mark bickering as he makes his way to the bar.

He hands the bartender the tray and leans against the bar, waiting.

“What are you drinking?” says a voice to his right, and he turns to look at a lanky blond guy who’s nursing a bottle of beer. He’s wearing a suit with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and the way he’s smiling at Jeff makes something warm pool in the pit of Jeff’s stomach. He looks familiar, but Jeff knows he’s never met the guy. He’s pretty sure he would have remembered if he did.

“Um,” says Jeff.

“Here you go,” says the bartender, placing a tray of shots at Jeff’s elbow.

“I have to go,” Jeff blurts out, and legs it back to the table with the tray. When he sits back down, Ellen’s looking at him speculatively. He hands out the shots and drinks his down without waiting for someone to say whatever it is they’ve never done.

“What did that guy ask you?” Ellen says, once Jeff’s put his shot glass down.

“Nothing,” Jeff says. She narrows her eyes and Jeff sighs. “Just what I was drinking.”

“What did you say in reply?” Ellen presses.

“Nothing,” Jeff says again. “The bartender came back with the shots, and then I left.”

Ellen groans and leans her head against her hands. “You’re completely hopeless, you know that?”

“Dude,” Toby says wisely. “He was totally hitting on you.”

“Who’s totally hitting on Jeff?” Erin asks, lured out of her bickering with Mark.

“No one,” says Jeff, just as Toby says, “The blond dude at the bar. In the suit.”

“Nice,” Erin says appreciatively. Mark scowls at the table and takes a shot.

“Stop looking over at him,” Jeff hisses.

“Jeff, we’re out of drinks again,” Ellen says. “Go get some more.”

“But I just got the last round,” Jeff says. But sure enough, the tray is empty.

“I’ll go with you,” Toby volunteers, and before Jeff can say anything else, he finds himself bundled back to the bar.

“He’s having what you’re having,” Toby tells the blond, pushing Jeff into one of the stools at the bar.

“Yeah?” says the guy, looking with undisguised amusement at the hand Toby has clamped onto Jeff’s shoulder. He waves the bartender over.

“If you check your right coat pocket, you'll find a keycard in there for 2108,” Toby whispers in Jeff’s ear. “And dude—trust us on this, okay? You should have seen your face when you were talking to this guy.”

“I didn’t even say five words to him,” Jeff hisses back.

“Just go with it,” Toby instructs him. The bartender hands him another tray of shots, and he puts a Molson in front of Jeff. Toby slaps Jeff on the shoulder again, and leaves with the tray.

“I’m Eric,” says the blond guy, holding out his hand.

“Jeff,” Jeff replies, shaking his hand. Eric’s hand is huge, and fits easily around Jeff’s. Jeff tries not to think about how long Eric’s fingers are, how his hands would feel against his skin. “So Eric,” he says. “What brings you to Toronto?”

///

It’s easily the easiest conversation Jeff’s ever had in his life. Jeff learns that Eric’s the owner of a landscaping business, and that he’s in town for a conference. He knows a lot about sod. He makes awful jokes, and his eyes turn warm when he’s amused. He throws his head back when he laughs. It should look ridiculous, but it’s actually pretty hot.

In return, Jeff tells him that he’s a studying math at a nearby college. He doesn’t know why he lied, except that Eric’s… nothing like the boys he’s messed around with before, and he just knows that if Eric knew he was seventeen and not even out of high school, he wouldn’t be looking at Jeff with half as much interest in his eyes.

Jeff also maybe should have stopped two beers ago, but this is the most fun he’s had the whole night, and the bartender just keeps giving him more.

He glances back at their table a few times. The last time he did, it was to find it almost empty—Toby and Ellen must’ve gone up to their room, and Mark and Erin are talking intently about something. Eric makes another bad pun right then, and Jeff has to stop drinking before beer comes out of his nose.

Finally, the bar quiets down, and Jeff, made bold by alcohol and the way Eric’s been staring at his mouth, says, “Do you want to come up to my room?”

“Yeah,” says Eric. He throws some bills down onto the table, and gets up. Jeff’s a little nervous that he’s going to totter when he gets off the stool, but he’s surprisingly steady. Eric puts one arm around his shoulders and follows him to the elevators. The world isn’t spinning or anything, but it’s glowing rather nicely, and Jeff almost misses it when Eric asks him, “Do you have stuff?”

Jeff squints at Eric’s reflection in the mirrored doors of the elevator before he gets it. “Oh! Oh, no.” He scrunches his mouth up. “Sorry.”

“It’s cool,” Eric says. The elevator doors open and they get in. Eric reaches out to press 15 and Jeff hits 21. “I’ll pass by my room first, if that’s okay. I have something.”

“My room’s probably nicer,” Jeff says, leaning into Eric. He can feel the rumble of Eric’s laugh.

“Yeah, it probably is,” he says. “So I’ll meet you up there, okay?” They reach the fifteenth floor and Jeff detaches himself from Eric.

“See you,” Jeff says, and it isn’t until the doors open on 21 that he realizes that they could have done it in Eric’s room.

Well. The room Toby’s dad got him probably _is_ nicer anyway.

Jeff opens the door to 2108 and… okay, it’s got an impressive view. Not that Jeff thinks he’s going to be staring a lot out the window that night.

Jeff sheds his jacket and hangs it over a chair. He goes into the bathroom and stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks and the tip of his nose are pinkish. He washes his face and rinses out his mouth. His hair’s kind of a wreck, and he runs a hand through it. He undoes the top two buttons of his shirt. He doesn’t look any older, but Eric already thinks he’s in college anyway, so whatever. He dries his face and goes out to wait.

He sits on the bed first. Then he tries lying on his side. He feels like an idiot when he does though, and it hits him, as Eric knocks on the door, that  
Eric wouldn’t have seen him in that position anyway, since now he has to get up and answer the door.

He’s a little breathless when he opens the door.

He smiles up at Eric. “Hi.”

“Hey,” says Eric, voice low. He drops the small paper bag he has in his hands on an armchair near the door. Jeff’s feeling a little awkward already, but then Eric turns to him, eyes dark, and leans down to kiss him, dirty and open-mouthed. Jeff’s knees go weak with how good it is.

They make it to the bed and Jeff pulls Eric down on top of him. Eric makes quick work of Jeff’s shirt and Jeff tugs at the buckle on Eric’s pants. Eric groans, turning his head into the curve of Jeff’s neck, and Jeff arches up against him, looking for friction. Eric drags his fingernails down Jeff’s chest, pausing to tweak his nipples, and Jeff cries out. Eric does it again, and this time catches Jeff’s moan with his mouth. Jeff’s fingers are clumsy against the buttons of Eric’s shirt, but he finally gets it off anyway, and the first press of skin against skin sends all Jeff’s blood to his cock. Jeff groans as Eric cups him through his pants. Jeff’s managed to get Eric’s pants unzipped, but they’re pushed only halfway down his hips. Eric runs a hand over Jeff’s cock again, and Jeff’s hips jerk up. Eric laughs into Jeff’s cheek, kissing him as he undoes Jeff’s pants and pushes them down his legs.

Jeff has never been harder in his life, but it feels… wrong somehow, and even though his timing leaves a lot to be desired, he blurts out, just as Eric gets a hand around his dick, “I’m not really in college.”

Eric was halfway down Jeff’s chest, kissing and licking and biting, but he looks up at Jeff now. He’s smiling a little as he replies, “I’m not really the owner of a modest landscaping business.”

Jeff laughs, drunkenly and a little hysterically. The laugh turns into a moan as Eric bends his head to take the head of Jeff’s cock into his mouth. His hand is still around the base of Jeff’s cock, and he moves it in time with his mouth.

Jeff’s gotten head before, but never like this. His toes curl into the bedspread and he raises himself on his elbows so he can look at Eric. If this is the only time he gets to be with Eric, he wants the image burned into the back of his eyelids. He’s going to be jerking off to this memory for ages.

Eric glances up at Jeff. He still has one hand on Jeff’s cock, and Eric reaches up with the other one to run his fingernails over Jeff’s left nipple. He slides his lips further down Jeff’s cock. It’s wet and hot and so, so good. Jeff gasps and his orgasm hits him out of nowhere. He can’t even warn Eric, but Eric swallows it down, throat working. As Jeff sags back onto the bed, Eric pulls off his cock and moves up to lie beside him again, slipping one arm under Jeff’s neck, pulling Jeff against him.

“Sorry,” Jeff says, blushing. He doesn’t even think he lasted five minutes. Eric still has his pants on, and he can feel Eric’s hard-on against his hip.

“Do you want me to—,” he makes a gesture with his hand.

Eric shoots him a look. It’s fond and hungry and it makes Jeff shiver.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Eric. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeff turns his head and presses a kiss against Eric’s collarbone. “We could, uh,” Jeff says. “Watch TV?”

“Sure,” Eric says. He reaches for the remote without pulling too far from Jeff. He turns the TV on and gets up from the bed. “You want something to drink?” he asks over his shoulder. Jeff sits up and replies, “Is there water?”

Eric tosses him a bottle of water from the mini-bar and heads into the bathroom. Jeff drinks half of the bottle in one go and switches the channel to TSN. They’re showing a recap of the Bruins-Canadiens match-up. Jeff finishes his water and takes his pants and underwear all the way off. He’s hanging them over the back of a chair when they show a clip from the Hurricanes-Leafs game, and it hits Jeff why Eric looks so familiar.

“Shit,” he says. He hears water running inside the bathroom, and he switches the TV off. When Eric comes out of the bathroom, Jeff’s on the bed again, mentally shaking himself.

“Hey,” Eric says. The bed tilts when he gets back on it. “Had enough TV?”

“Something like that,” Jeff says, and he tilts his head up to kiss Eric. He slips his hands into Eric’s boxers and pulls them down along with Eric’s pants. Eric helps him, raising one leg, then the other. They make out for a while—Eric’s still hard but he’s not pushing Jeff or anything, seemingly content to run his hands up and down Jeff’s sides and back, to lick into the warmth of his mouth.

Jeff’s seventeen though, so it doesn’t really take him that long before he’s ready to go again. Eric’s still just kissing him, occasionally nipping on Jeff’s neck and shoulders. The more Eric turns him on, the easier it is to forget that Jeff’s seen him being interviewed on TV, watched him win a gold medal at the Olympics. Jeff runs a hand down Eric’s chest and wraps it around his cock. Eric’s hips jerk up and he thrusts into Jeff’s hand. Jeff pulls away and pushes Eric onto his back. He slings a leg over Eric’s pelvis, straddling him, pressing their cocks together.

Jeff rolls his hips experimentally, and Eric arches up, groaning. Jeff grins down at him and starts moving down Eric’s body. Eric’s cock curves against his abs, leaving smears of precome. Jeff laves his tongue against Eric’s abs, bites at the skin covering his hipbones. Eric’s legs fall open and Jeff fits himself between them, feeling the muscle in Eric’s thighs jump as Jeff mouths at the head of Eric’s cock, teasing it with his tongue and a hint of teeth.

“Jeff,” Eric gasps, and Jeff carefully moves his head until he’s got most of Eric’s length in his mouth. He inhales deeply and keeps moving his head down, controlling his gag reflex until his nose is almost pressed against the skin of Eric’s stomach. Eric’s thighs are tensed, and he can feel the control Eric is exerting so he doesn’t thrust wildly into Jeff’s mouth. Jeff moves his head a few times, and Eric’s voice sounds wrecked when he says, “Jeff, Jeff, stop.”

Jeff pulls his mouth off of Eric’s cock with a pop that has his own cock twitching against his thigh. “Come here,” Eric says, hauling Jeff up against him. He kisses Jeff, all teeth and tongue. When they come apart for air, Jeff says, “I want you to fuck me.”

Eric groans and presses his face against Jeff’s shoulder. He pants against Jeff’s skin, long enough that Jeff gets impatient. He rolls his hips to meet Eric’s. “Eric,” Jeff says. “Fuck me.”

“Okay,” Eric says, pressing a kiss against Jeff’s shoulder. He clambers off the bed and comes back with a tube and a condom. He stares down at Jeff for a minute, and Jeff’s shameless—he runs his hands all over his chest and stomach, cups his cock and balls. Eric licks at his lips, absently, and asks, “Have you done this before?”

Jeff stills, biting his lip. He can’t lie about this. The pause goes on a little too long, and Eric sighs. It sounds more wondering than exasperated though, so Jeff’s hopeful. He runs an absent hand up his chest and watches Eric breathe in sharply, eyes tracking the movement.

“I thought so,” Eric says. He doesn’t move away though. Instead, he places a hand on Jeff’s hip to nudge him onto his hands and knees, but Jeff shakes his head.

“I… I want to see you,” Jeff says, and he’s grateful that the room’s so dark that Eric can’t possibly tell that he’s blushing.

“Fuck, Jeff,” Eric says, bending to kiss Jeff, one hand clutching Jeff’s hip. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Jeff doesn’t reply, but he winds his arms around Eric’s neck and pulls him closer.

Jeff could never have thought that kissing was something he’d want to do for ages and ages, but he’s never kissed anyone like Eric before.

Eric pops the cap open on the tube and smears lube all over his fingers. He pulls away and moves down Jeff’s body. Jeff spreads his legs and makes himself relax as Eric presses a finger against his hole. Eric smears more lube around and inside it as he works his finger inside.

“Okay?” he asks Jeff, and Jeff nods. “Think you can take one more?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replies, and Eric presses another one in, scissoring them carefully. He bends his head and licks at where his fingers are entering Jeff. Jeff’s hips jerk at the sensation, and he cries out.

Eric’s still moving his fingers carefully inside Jeff, and then he touches something inside Jeff that has Jeff almost whiting out with the pleasurable shock of it, making his toes curl into the bedspread and ripping a keening cry from his throat.

Eric glances up at Jeff, pleased, and runs his fingertips over that spot again. He adds another finger while Jeff tries to catch his breath.

“Fuck, Eric,” says Jeff, practically pressing down onto Eric’s fingers. Eric reaches up to wrap a hand around Jeff’s dick, moving his hand in time with the fingers in Jeff’s ass.

“Eric,” Jeff groans out. “Now, please.”

Eric takes his fingers out of Jeff’s ass and slips the condom on. “Are you sure that you want to do it like this?” he asks Jeff seriously, and Jeff takes one look at Eric’s face, at how wide and dark his eyes are, and he says, “Yeah. Come on, Eric.”

Eric positions himself between Jeff’s thighs and lifts one of Jeff’s legs up, over his hip. His first thrust has Jeff crying out and Eric stills, letting Jeff get used to the sensation. Jeff breathes deeply, relaxing his muscles, and spreads his legs wider. He tilts his hips, grinding against Eric’s cock, and Eric thrusts a little deeper.

Eric bends down to mouth at Jeff’s jaw, kissing him, biting lightly at his neck. He moves his hips and thrusts into Jeff again, slow.

It’s so fucking good. But it isn’t enough.

“Come on, Eric,” Jeff says. “Harder. I won’t break.”

Eric groans and moves his hips again. It’s a little rougher than the ones before, but it still feels like Eric’s holding back.

“Faster,” Jeff says, hands clutching at Eric’s biceps. Eric braces himself, arms on either side of Jeff’s head, and drives deep into Jeff, groaning loud and low.

“Oh god, Jeff,” he says, dragging his teeth over Jeff’s shoulder. Jeff gets a hand between them to jerk himself off, but Eric bats his hand away and wraps a hand around Jeff’s cock himself. Jeff moves his hips in time with Eric’s thrusts and runs his hands all over Eric, feeling the planes of sinew and muscle all over his back, the jut of his shoulder blades.

Eric’s moving his hand faster, like he wants Jeff to come first, and Jeff’s not winning any contests for stamina here, honestly. He comes with a shout, spilling into Eric’s hand. Eric groans and mouths weakly at Jeff’s jaw, catching his mouth in a kiss that’s little more than teeth clacking together, but then Eric’s coming, Jeff can feel it— the sudden, pulsing warmth inside him.

Eric sags against him for a minute before pulling out. He ties the condom off and goes to throw it away. Jeff puts an arm over his eyes and lies there, panting. Eric comes back with a towel from the bathroom. He wipes Jeff off and pulls him away from the wet spot. Jeff takes the towel from him and drops it over the edge of the bed.

“Stay,” Jeff says, pulling Eric down beside him.

“Just for a bit,” Eric agrees, curling around Jeff. Jeff thought it would be weirder afterwards, awkward and fumbling, maybe with Eric trying to get away from him without any drama. It’s not like Jeff makes a habit of sleeping with professional hockey players. But Eric just winds his arms around Jeff, pressing his mouth against the nape of Jeff’s neck.

Jeff pulls Eric’s arm tighter around him, and falls asleep in minutes.

///

There’s light coming in through the window when Jeff wakes up—the weak, grey light of dawn. Eric’s sitting at the foot of the bed, pulling on his socks and shoes. Jeff crawls up behind him and presses himself against Eric’s back. Eric smells sharp and a little soapy. He probably used the hotel products, which means Jeff will probably end up smelling like this later. There’s a pang in his chest at the thought, but he ignores it.

He wraps his arms around Eric’s waist, and Eric tenses. Embarrassed, Jeff moves to pull away, but then Eric places his hands over Jeff’s and holds him there.

“Good morning,” Eric says, and Jeff can feel the rumble of it through Eric’s back.

“G’morning,” Jeff says sleepily. “You have to go?”

“Yeah,” Eric says. He sounds regretful, and Jeff takes a strange, savage comfort in that. He and Eric are strangers who met at a hotel bar—strangers who lied to each other, even—and yet he already feels bereft. “Jeff, I—,”

“Shhh,” Jeff says, pressing his mouth against Eric’s shoulder. He rubs his cheek against the fabric of Eric’s suit jacket, like a giant cat. “We had a great time, Eric. But now you have to go. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” He moves his head to kiss the side of Eric’s neck, and he lies back down.

Eric gets to his feet and turns to look at him. Jeff stares up at him, and he smiles. “Good-bye, Eric.”

Eric looks like he wants to say something else, and his hands move reflexively at his sides, like he wants to take all his clothes off and get back into bed with Jeff. Maybe Jeff’s projecting. He’s a teenager who just got laid, he’s allowed his fantasies. He doesn’t move his eyes away from Eric, committing him to memory.

Eric bends down and softly says, practically against the curve of Jeff's ear, “Bye Jeff.” He brushes his lips against Jeff’s, light and almost chaste, and Jeff finds himself rising up a little, following Eric’s lips. Eric deepens the kiss, one hand large and warm on the back of Jeff’s neck. It’s good, but it would be better if it weren’t good-bye.

Jeff pulls away before Eric does. He tucks the covers around him and closes his eyes. He hears Eric move towards the door, and he holds his breath… maybe—  
When he hears the door click shut behind Eric, he lets himself exhale. It sounds almost like a sob to him, but he just keeps breathing until he falls back asleep.

///

When he wakes up again, it’s to Ellen knocking on the door. He pulls on his boxers and a hotel bathrobe, and goes to answer the door.

“Hey kid,” she says, pushing past him. She’s wearing a hotel bathrobe too, and slippers, and behind her there’s a room service tray of food. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly,” he says, letting her in.

“Okay,” she says. She turns the TV on as he wheels the cart in. It’s still switched to TSN, and for some reason they’re showing the same highlights from last night, and—“Holy shit.”

“I know,” Jeff says. He takes a piece of toast from one of the plates and wolfs it down as Ellen goggles at the TV.

“Jeff,” Ellen says, turning to him with wide eyes. “Don’t you know what this means?”

Jeff winces at how loud her voice is.

“You’re going to see him again,” she predicts.

“And it’ll be the most awful, awkward thing ever,” Jeff points out. “Hello, underage.”

“You’re seventeen,” Ellen points out. “I don’t get-- _oh_. Oh my god,” she says, trailing off.

“Yeah,” Jeff says.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Ellen says finally, moving to put an arm around Jeff. “He was really into you, you could tell just from how he was looking at you.”

“Ellen,” says Jeff. It's bad enough he's got his own hopes up-- imagining seeing Eric at the draft. At training camp. His stomach cramps a little out of anticipation. It could happen.

“It’s going to be _fine_ ,” says Ellen again.

“Okay,” he says. When she says it so decisively, he can almost believe it. He closes his eyes briefly, thinking of that last kiss, and breathes in. “Okay.”

///  
End  
///


End file.
